Homework and Hot Babes
by his.dark.demise
Summary: Buddy Pine in college? Oh, the hilarity. Random one-shots.
1. ZZzzzzz

_I do not own The Incredibles, Pixar, Disney, etc._

_This is a work of fiction, any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidence._

_No animals were harmed in the making of this story._

**Note: **Alright, bear with me on this one. Basically, a friend (Jorden) and I were discussing what Buddy's college life must've been like and dozens of ridiculously stupidly hilarious ideas popped into our heads. This is a collection of random one-shot scenes as we think of them. No plot, nonsensical silliness. Do you have any ideas to add? Toss it in the reviews and I'll write it up!

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><p>"Buddy Pine."<p>

The professor stood at the front of her social sciences class with a list in hand. It was the first day of college, bright and early in the morning. After no response the teacher called the name once again. Mirage peered around the room quietly in search of the character with no name. Her green eyes settled on a body, a younger looking person than she was accustomed to seeing. Flaming red hair and freckles, the kind of face that simply screamed 'nerdy'. The teacher called his name again, and the entire class turned to observe with smirks and giggles.

"Mm... hm?" The young man had finally been stirred awake by a tentative tap on the shoulder. The brightest blue eyes she'd ever seen looked around in confusion for a moment until he'd realized the reason behind the interruption of his sleep. The person (however hilariously) named Buddy waved at the instructor who frowned deeply.

"Mr. Pine, I suggest you find other places to sleep than in my class."

"Awesome, wake me up when it's over." Despite the blatant disrespect towards a staff member of Harvard, Mirage couldn't help but allow herself a small smile. Meanwhile, Buddy stretched and returned to his slumber. The instructor looked about ready to throw his book as he returned to roll call. He'd heard about this kid before from one of the freshman class instructors, but had never imagined how much of a headache he could be. Despite this, class went on as scheduled. Mirage packed up her bag as the bell rang, taking a chance glance over her shoulder; none of the students had bothered to wake the snoozer.

"Holy-GAAH!" Buddy had been dangerously leaned back in his chair, so Mirage had simply pushed it enough to drop him out of it with a loud thump. Mr. freckle face lay flat on his back, staring up at her as if he might pull the girl down with him. Not in a nice way, either. Mirage raised an eyebrow as he quickly righted himself and scrambled to his feet, brushing off his pants.

"Pleasure to meet you." The white-haired girl tilted her head at the person who was quite a bit shorter than she'd thought he'd be. Instead of responding properly however, Buddy rolled his eyes at her and muttered something along the lines of 'whatever' before continuing along on his way without bothering to pick up his books that had been left unopened on the desk. Not only a nerd, but a moody nerd. Interesting. The girl followed after him, intrigued for what reason she couldn't explain.

"So, where are you from?"

"The bat cave." He grumbled, shoving his hands into his hoodie pockets. The weather was getting chilly, and even Mirage snuggled up to her coat as she kept pace beside him. She rolled her eyes at the response, but continued resolutely to receive a straight answer.

"So how old are you?" The question had she'd been burning to ask was the only one he'd bothered to answer.

"Sixteen." She had to stop for a moment to take it in. Was he kidding her? What the heck was a sophomore in high school doing in a place like Harvard? It explained a few things, but left a million more questions.

"What are-"

"Look," He suddenly turned around, peering up at her with a very nasty expression. "I make bombs. I sell guns, I blow stuff up, and I kill people. Anything else you need to know your royal nosiness?" Mirage blinked, amazed at how quickly he'd turned on her. He wasn't just a moody nerd, he was downright malicious! While she wished to continue the conversation, several of her friends had called from a distance. Mirage turned to wave pleasantly, but when she'd turned back to Buddy he'd already walked away.

_Strange kid..._


	2. Alcoholics Anonymous

"Explain something to me, Pine."

"Think your peanut of a brain can handle it?" The star football player sat across from his roommate with a serious expression. Buddy took the time to peer over his shoulder, leaning back against the chair and using the desk he sat at to avoid falling. On the desk was a laptop which Buddy spent most of his time with, much to the boggled mind of his roommate. It was a strange pairing that the two of them made, but somehow it had worked out.

"I really don't think it can, no. Explain to me how the nerdiest kid on the campus ended up with that bombshell babe." The jock pointed to a picture of Mirage that had been pinned into a bulletin board along with a slew of other paperwork and sticky notes. Ah, Mirage. Two years of college, a lot of arguments and dozen makeups later and one could almost consider them 'steady', at least according to school rumors.

"Kind of like how I stole your girlfriend a few months ago."

"No way! That was you?" The jock was left with his jaw hanging while Buddy nearly laughed himself out of his chair. It had been an interesting night which had lead Buddy to an understanding of why drinking was so damn fun. Unfortunately, waking up next to someone with no recollection of what happened the night before didn't exactly sit pretty with a certain white-haired girl; it had been one of those 'off' months after that.

"Couldn't think of any way to tell ya, Johnny. Chicks dig the hair." It was a damn lie, but a damn hilarious lie. Buddy went on snickering until the jock named Johnny suddenly grabbed him by the shoulder and tossed him onto the ground. The red-head cackled from a tiny ball on the floor while his roommate threw mock punches and completely ruined his 'chick magnet' hair.

"I've gotta be imagining that a short-ass like you can get anything other than yer left hand."

"Hey, hey! You obviously don't remember me when I first got here. And for your information, it's the right hand."

"Aww, dude!" Johnny jumped back, cringing, though couldn't argue the first point made. The sixteen-year old freshman had managed to jump up nearly a foot and a half in two years. Sure, he still wasn't exactly towering over anybody, but at least he could look straight at his girlfriend rather than up at her these days. Buddy sat up and climbed back into his desk chair, and the jock went back to his bed. He picked up a football from his pillow and began tossing it boredly. "How much I gotta pay you to take care of my homework?"

"Can't tonight, shot night."

"And they call _me_ an alcoholic," Johnny smirked. "Don't get yourself dumped again."

"No guarantees."


End file.
